128 meters tall. 18,520 tons. Three support satellites, four supercomputers, five fusion reactors, six million rounds of ammunition. Energy demand greater than the state of Rhode Island, memory demand equal to roughly one eighth of the internet.

And it definitely does not need a freeze ray.

No, it definitely does not need a freeze ray, not where the dispersion cannon is mounted. Doesn't matter that it would be dead center of the chest there, perfectly symmetrical and thematically appropriate. I mean, that cannon turns whole voting districts into carbon. Mount Vesuvius at the touch of a button. I could take that cannon apart and sell it for scrap and have enough cash to cure malaria. Doesn't matter that I could call it Heart of Winter. Heart of Ice. ColdHeart.

And besides, if you want to talk thematics, installing one in each palm would be much more appropriate. Much more appropriate and need me to completely scrap my power distribution system which is operating at 96% efficiency, a personal milestone, thanks for asking, and draw up whole new reactor placement schematics and not to mention add power and Jesus Christ fuel lines and jerry-rig some God Damn Bose-Einstein condensate cooling system that'll kill any elbow dexterity I had and at least halve my arm strength from the Fucking Hell from the complete, I repeat the complete overhaul of my entropic synthetic musculature lattice template and nervous innervation schema, that's right, 1800 tons of perfect, literally perfect synthetic muscle as useful as a pile of old fucking tires. But no, as long as we're concerned with the drama of the whole endeavor, we might as well give my war-machine cerebral fucking palsy.

I have a point-energy dispersion cannon. It atomizes. It practically erases your birth certificate. 30 mm shells hit with 150,000 Joules of KE. There is literally nothing on this green earth that can deflect a shot from those railguns. What does a freeze ray do? Freeze things? I can put a satellite-guided 43.9 kilogram explosive through a basketball hoop 20 kilometers away. Correction: I can do that 12 times a second for three minutes.

Winter's Fist. The icy grip of Winter's Fist.

You are not doing this. Not this time. Not again. You've been through this so many times. Remember Murballaq? He opened his doors to you. He let you into his home. You played cards with him. For God's sake, he told you his Secretary of Defense's tell. And you insisted on those uniforms. Insisted on your little insignias and costumes and drama and thematics. Insisted on your pathetic little game right up until the UN showed up and cut your little play soldiers to ribbons. His wife returned that necklace with the box unopened. I mean, you bought that thing. Actually bought it.

The launch code is in. Hit enter and watch the fireworks. Watch eight years of your life burn this world to the ground.

2011-04-05 01:06:44

Cool story. I can't tell if you are purposefully changing from first to second person but it works (It almost achieves a split personality, but it some cases, it feels awkward). I agree with Deathcon, the narration is filled with too much high-tech jargon that it almost loses the reader; although, it definitely develops the villain. The intermittent quips and jokes were a bit much though, as they undermine the villain's tone and character and makes them somewhat corny and forced, instead of neurotic (good word) and unstable. Good language, structure and variety throughout. Peace.